Friday, April 16, 2010

volo illo narrabat fabulam sui mihi

(this is a breath.
this is only a moment.
we were mermaids
who never drown.)


Tell me. Tell me something
I was watching. I was an emotionless
witnessing the breezes, the branches,
and spring.
I heard your strange geometry.
I need you to explain it to me.

Tell me. Tell me your myth.
What was your elegiac breakfast?
Wafting, lofty, morning to morning.
The floorboards are temporal, present.
But what was your preface?
The waltz that moved you, that carried you
here: I've caressed that music.
I envision a silken, hot, balloon.
It is golden. It is illuminated.

...and what of touch?
It is a fever of mystery.
I've felt them--
--your words.
They rain down upon me like violets,
like silver-sparkling thumb-tacks.
My edges blurred.

I wore seven veils.
My feet were barefoot. My back is crooked.
I have filled my curtains with wares and yolked them to my belly
to my back
to get here
to have faith in this flesh, in this skin.
May I still listen?
Never have I away'd in so many colors,
under so many waves.
I am full of questions.

I want to navigate with you
a river of forks
and spoons.